Dancing Sunflowers
by MaliceArchangela
Summary: Toris never thought he'd be able to go to the New World, so is this job with Mr. Branginski a dream come true for him and his brothers?  And what about his Boss's sister.  Based of the Titanic, therefore there will be Character Death.
1. Chapter 1

I came up with the idea for this when one of my new friends showed me the end of the Titanic. I've never watched it before, mostly because it's obvious how it ends (i.e., people dieing). However, I was inspired to write, and so I did.

Readers of my other stories, I will still put all my effort into the _Quiet_ series, no need to worry about that. I won't abandon it halfway through. But I also wanted to experiment with other aspects, such as writing a serious story and trying to create different relationships between characters.

I don't promise perfect relationships since the voyage of the Titanic was to take only a week, and so doesn't give me the ability to take over a hundred chapters to hone the relationship between individuals. Though this story is NOT set on the Titanic. I didn't feel like researching it to make it perfect, so it's a different ship that meets the same fate.

I hope people enjoy it and that I'm able to do the idea I have in my mind justice.

RER!

**…**

It was a different time then, a period where ladies were always accompanied by gentlemen when they made long trips, a time before planes could make transatlantic flights.

It was a time when death seemed so far away.

It was a dreary, rainy day in London as a tall man walked towards the inn. Raindrops mingled in the streets, creating puddles that began to look more like lakes as they flooded the cobblestones. Everywhere, people were scurrying about like mice, trying to avoid the soggy wetness from both above and below. The man gave a sigh of relief when he finally reached the place where he would be staying, grateful that his shoes had not been soaked through by the torrential downpour. He took one last look at the stormy sky before he entered the door, drawing attention with his immense size - and his luxurious trappings.

He was rich Russian aristocrat - normally one would expect him to be staying in the finest hotel - but Ivan Branginski had always found that he preferred the company of the common folk to his peers. And he would see something there tonight that he wouldn't have seen had he decided to emulate the stereotype of his social class.

At the risk of sounding cliché, one could say that it was a life-changing moment.

…

Toris shepherded his younger brothers into the inn, a suitcase held over his head to attempt to block the pouring rain. The bag felt disturbingly light, but they were lucky that the debt collectors had left a little for the orphans to live off of.

He momentarily gazed at the large ships in the harbor, his eyes falling on the largest ship of all, _Подсолнечник_. In a few weeks, it would be heading off to America, and the Lithuanian wished that he could afford for his small family to board her, to head off for a new life.

But dreams were for those who could afford such things.

He would have to try to keep his morale up, no use letting his younger brothers get their spirits down.

…

Toris kept a fake smile on his face as he surveyed where they'd be staying.

'Cramped' was a good way of describing it, possibly the nicest way he could think of. Despairingly he thought of their old home, where each of them had a room of their own, with wide windows that let in the sunlight, even when they couldn't afford candles. Of course, there wasn't much sunlight here to make much difference, even if there were more windows, or even if the only one was larger, but it was another tally against the room in the Lithuanian's mind.

"Well, settle in, boys," he spoke as cheerfully as he could so the other two wouldn't be alarmed, "This'll be our home for the next few weeks."

He plopped his bag down on a cot and tried not to cough at the dust, which was much more than he had expected. He knew that this was the best he could afford, but the grime made him wonder how long it had been since someone had last used this room. The stench smelt like something had died in it, perhaps a rat, its surroundings too poisonous even for the vermin. But nothing good would come of complaining; in fact, that was the absolute worst thing he could do, possibly earning them a boot out onto the streets. At least _here_ they had a roof over their heads, sheltering them from the rain that was commonplace in London.

Besides, it's not like he really expected it to be anything better.

At times, he couldn't really tell whether or not Eduard really believed his cheerfulness was real, but he appreciated the boy at least pretending to, if only for the sake of Raivis. The middle child, like himself, had grown up a bit too quickly, but they both did their best to keep the same from happening to the youngest one. Smiling gently at the tired child, he lifted him up onto the piece of furniture.

As he placed Raivis on the bed, Toris accidentally knocked their bag over, but it barely caused a thump as it landed on the floor, though it did kick up another large cloud of dust.

It was depressing how little they had. The Lithuanian knew he had to get a job, had to get one soon, or else they'd _still_ end up on the streets. Not for the first time, he cursed his thin frame. Most of the work for his class was hard labor, and he didn't have the education for the better jobs, having dropped out in order to take care of his siblings while his parents each juggled multiple jobs in order to keep their beautiful home and their children fed.

He sighed inaudibly before turning back to his brothers and giving them a wide cheerful grin. "Well, let's go see if we can get some grub then, shall we?"

…

Natalya looked longingly at the calendar, reaching up and gently touching the date she would be due to travel.

Only a few more weeks before she'd be united with her wonderful brother.

Some people looked at her love for him with disgust, but it's not like they were actual blood relatives. Their last names showed that. _And_ they were moving to America, where no one would even know about how their parents had married.

Yekaterina would come join them a while later, but the Belarusian didn't mind. It was just her brother that she minded being apart from.

She sighed, pressing her cheek into her hand.

Why couldn't they understand?

Why couldn't _he_ understand?

They said love was blind, but didn't that usually mean the ones who were _in_ love? That wasn't it.

What was it about their _(her)_ love that made people blind to the fact that they weren't real siblings, poisoning her brother's mind against her?

Only a few more weeks, and no one would separate them again.

But in the meantime, she could plan their wedding.

**...**

Well, there's the first chapter.

I apologize if the characters are OOC, I'm not used to this fandom, nor to writing these types of characters.

I will do my best to remain as true to them as I can.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you will continue when I post the next chapters.

**10/2/2011 - Thanks to _The Fairy Cake_ for giving me critiques as to how to make this chapter better.**


	2. Chapter 2

Well, since I saw the first part of _Titanic_ last night/this morning, I figured I should probably post this.

I'm currently working on Chapter 15 of the _Quiet_ series, so don't worry about me abandoning it 'cause I'm not!

Hope you enjoy, and remember, REVIEW!

**…**

"Eat up," Toris returned to the table with the meager meals, not nearly enough for three growing boys.

But it'll do for two. Before he had come over to the table, he had split the contents of the third plate between the other two, and returned the evidence.

"Toris, where's your meal?" Raivis tilted his head cutely as he did his best to not simply dig in to the meal. Their parents might have died, but their brother had not allowed them to forget the manners that had been instilled into them from before, no matter how low they sank.

"I'm not very hungry. I'm feeling kind of travel-sick, actually. I'll be fine." He laughed at his words, but used the action to help allay his brothers' fears.

He gestured at the boys to go ahead and eat, trying to ignore Eduard's stare as he slowly picked up a spoon to eat.

It wasn't like he was lying. He did feel a little travel-sick, though that might have been because he hadn't eaten anything that day. And he wasn't very hungry, though that might be because he'd gotten used to the feeling.

Eduard and Raivis needed it more. They were still growing; they could still make something of themselves. He was just there to be climbed on as they reached their way towards a better life. He didn't mind if they trampled him underfoot so long as they could live out their own dreams.

They sat there in silence for a while, a quiet little bubble within a mass of murmurs and calls. But unknown to himself, the Lithuanian's ears perked up at a different sound that was very familiar to him, even though he could not recall the tune.

Eduard could see Toris's foot tap on the floor as someone started playing music and another person joined in, making a catchy beat that the footloose Lithuanian could only try to ignore. This made the Estonian smile helplessly, knowing what was running through his older brother's head.

"Go ahead." He gestured for his elder brother to join the dancers, signaling that they would be fine where they were.

The Estonian was no fool; he knew what Toris went through to keep the younger two healthy. He only let him keep it up because it made his older brother happy to be able to take care of them. The few times he had attempted to refuse this kindness, the expression on Toris's face resembled that of a kicked puppy. And though Eduard had a feeling that the expression was likely manufactured, especially since the Lithuanian seemed extremely good at hiding what he usually thought. Yet whenever "the face" appeared, he could feel the walls inside him caving. He had long since come to the conclusion that resistance was futile, and to let his brother give away as much as he wanted for them.

But he knew that dancing was a certain passion of his brother's. In another place, in another time, he could've possibly made a living off his feet before settling into another profession when he could no longer move as lightly over the floor.

But dancing required luck, something their family seemed to truly lack, and, at the beginning, it paid even less than the small jobs Toris had taken over the years.

A few times, Eduard had tried to encourage him to find a dance company somewhere, but each time Toris had refused out of a desire to help his family.

Maybe in the new world he could have a chance to live out his dream. The Estonian wouldn't be averse to getting a job, a part-time one if the elder refused to let him drop out of school to help his family, if Toris could be happy for once in his life. But first they would have to get there. Their rotten luck would never put them in a position where they could have such a chance.

All throughout this, the Lithuanian debated in his head, before coming to the conclusion that a dance wouldn't hurt his brothers.

A broad infectious grin crossed his face as he skipped into the midst of the stomping feet.

Eduard smiled as he watched him. Most people only knew his brother as shy, but they didn't see the transformation that occurred when he was dancing. They insulted him for being meek and more willing to give in than to fight back, but he had a strength of will that could only be truly seen in his performances.

The Lithuanian had a sort of empathy with his audiences, a connection as thin as spider's silk, yet strong enough to influence them to believe whatever the song spoke of, be it a happy ending possible after all, or that such a tragedy really occurred.

Eduard was proud to call him his brother.

He knew that Toris had worked hard to learn what he could, as well as string it all together. He had never really had any formal lessons, but watched the practices of the ballet dancers when he worked as a janitor at the studio. An instructor there had been kind enough to give him a little help, but it wasn't enough to make a ballet-dancer out of him, something only emphasized with the bits of folk dancing littered about in his performances.

…

Ivan sat down in the corner, and nursed his vodka.

It seemed so long since he was able to sit down without having Natalya there.

It was _so_ relaxing, just to hear the pleasant chatter of the civilians as they went about their normal lives.

Then suddenly, all the conversation died as some music started, and another instrument joined in.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see people starting to dance, not caring how they looked, but just to express themselves in their own ways.

But then he heard a loud clapping sound, and the sound of many shoes hitting the floor ceased.

Glancing up, he could see a circle had cleared in the midst of the floor, and everyone was staring and cheering on the dancer that was preforming there, twirling and leaping, completely absorbed in his own little world.

Brown hair swirled around a grinning face, and it seemed almost to Ivan that it was no creature of flesh and blood dancing there, but a sylph, slipped away from the otherworld to play among the mortals for a while.

He could feel a lightening of the mood, as though the joy the lone dancer was feeling was being transmitted to the audience, increasing morale.

The music started to speed up, and so did the dancer, twisting and turning until the Russian was sure he'd have to be dizzy.

And then suddenly, the music ceased as he launched himself one last time to twirl in the air before coming down on his toes, arms in the air and froze.

...

There was that stab of pain that he had learned to expect from such moves, but he grinned as though his feet weren't killing him for the torture he put them through. He smiled as though he would not have to carefully bandage the blisters that were sure to have broken after his brothers went to sleep. His instructor (even if he wasn't really "his") had lectured the class on how they would have to care for their feet after such performances, as well as the stress they would inadvertently place on them.

But none of that mattered just now. Applause chorused, and he bowed to his audience, his wide grin growing even bigger as those people, even with not much to give, started pressing coin upon him for those few moments of happiness that would last the rest of the night.

He carefully regained the breath that had been lost in the performance as he started to head over to where his brothers waited eagerly. Maybe this coin would be enough to buy some more for his brothers, and maybe even a little bread to quell his own aching stomach.

"That was quite beautiful, da?"

Toris whirled to see a tall man standing there, leaning on a cane that seemed to resemble a long rusty pipe smiling childishly at him.

"Oh?" the Lithuanian pulled his hair out of his face, flustered at the attention he kept receiving, "I'm glad you think so, but it wasn't much…"

"How would you like to work for me?"

Something changed; his expression kept the same innocent happiness, but there was an unstated threat now.

"My name is Ivan Branginski," the man continued, "I've been looking for a new servant to serve me on my way to America. You'll work just fine."

Toris knew that he was in a dangerous situation. If he refused, he risked getting hurt. And he couldn't provide for his brothers if he was injured; it was hard enough working with his slight frame.

Him going to America was a preposterous idea anyways. He couldn't leave his brothers, and he felt fearful to let the large man know about them. But he had to figure out a good way to decline without ending up permanently maimed…

…

Eduard was watching the exchange with growing fear. There was something in that man's aura that seemed frightening to the Estonian.

He was trying to think of a way to get his brother out of this mess without revealing the younger two…and so didn't keep a good enough grip on the youngest.

"Toris!" Raivis cried, running to hug the brown-haired brother, "That was really great!"

Green eyes met his over the blond head of their brother, and Eduard knew that it was all over.

"Ah, who's this?" the man asked, lifting Raivis easily up into the air.

Toris's face twitched into his false smile, the one that Eduard knew meant he was planning to lie and hope that Raivis would follow through.

But the foolish little boy was too quick.

"Toris is my big brother! I'm Raivis!" then he looked over at him, "And that's my other older brother, Eduard! Eduard, why aren't you coming to say hello?"

Don't get him wrong, he loved his little brother.

But sometimes the boy could just be so _stupid_!

Slowly moving his feet, he went to join his brothers and the man who was currently easily holding the youngest, bouncing him a little on his hip.

"So your name is Eduard, da?" when the boy nodded stiffly, he turned to the child he held, "And you are Raivis? Would you like to come live with me for a while and go to America with me?"

"Do you have food?" he tilted his head cutely, eyes wide.

This seemed to amuse the Russian, "Da," he turned to Toris, "Were you worried about your family? If you work for me, they'll be well taken care of. Nothing will hurt them."

**...**

Well, there's a limited number of responses he can make to this and still have a story, so it's not quite a cliff-hanger.

Hope you liked it, and that I protrayed the characters well.


	3. Chapter 3

Hey, I'd like to thank _The Fairy Cake_ again for reviewing to help me edit the last chapter.

And here comes chapter 3 of my Hetalia Fanfiction!

.Review!

**…**

Toris heard the possibilities in the man's voice, but made his decision then and there, before he could think it through and realize fully what the man was implying.

"I'd be honored."

If accepting would get his siblings the life they deserved, then he'd willingly make a deal with the devil. Besides, it's not like he had much of a choice.

"Wonderful," he smiled before turning to the innkeeper, "I'll need two more rooms!"

"Ah, Mr. Branginski," Toris protested, "You don't have to do that. We can share, it'll be fine…"

He waved away the innkeeper with his orders before turning to the Lithuanian, "As my servant, you might have to work after your siblings go to sleep. Wouldn't you rather have your own room and so not wake them up when you come in?"

The logic was phrased innocently, with an expression that told Toris that he would be glad of it before their time together was up.

"Thank you," he spoke, hanging his head.

"Нет, do not lower your head," he lifted up his chin again, "Take your brothers to your new room, and we shall get you what you need tomorrow."

…

Up in his brother's new room, Toris sat down heavily on the soft bed, relieved when no cloud of dust was kicked up. He didn't want to overly worry, but part of him was suspicious that Raivis might be getting asthma. He seemed to cough a lot in dusty places, more than normal.

Perhaps this job was a godsend. It certainly seemed that way. Not only was he getting a well-paying job, but he was receiving food and board, for his siblings too, as well as passage to America. Mr. Branginski had finalized the details before he had returned, just to be sure that his brothers were sleeping soundly.

It seemed almost too good to be true. He tried not to think that this might turn out poorly for him in the end.

Sighing, he brushed the hair from Raivis's face and pressed a light kiss on his forehead.

"Don't get hurt because of us," a voice spoke up, causing him to whirl, startled.

"Eduard, why are you still awake?"

"Promise me."

A soft smile crossed his face. "I promise."

The Estonian had no way of telling if it was an empty assurance or not.

…

It took so _long_, when they were married, she'd fix that. Perhaps in America he'd be more willing to accept her advances. No one there need know their parents had married each other, they could claim that she was his fiancée.

It could be a spring wedding. She knew Ivan preferred warmer weather to the chilling winters they got back home in Russia, though too much heat made him feel sick.

This just proved what a good wife she'd be to him. What other girl would think about these things for their husband?

She walked down the streets of London, walking as quickly as she could. Natalya knew that she really shouldn't be walking the streets by herself, but she had managed to come earlier than expected with no way to send word to her brother.

What a good surprise this would be. She smiled to herself as she entered the inn he had said he was staying at.

Cheerful music was playing, and she could hear the clapping that was cheering on a dancer that took her breath away once she saw him.

Decked out in bright colors of yellow, green, and red, he danced like an exotic butterfly, wafting on the breeze.

Every gesture was filled with emotion, and suddenly she found herself feeling even happier than she had been previously at just the mere thought of seeing her brother again.

She caught sight of a broad grin, filled with happiness and passion. It was like he had wings on his heels as he leapt and twirled, brown hair flying.

Ah, so there was the magic in this.

Because he loved what he was doing, the audience enjoyed it the same. She had seen stuff like this in the Russian ballets, ballerinas who could connect with their audience and those who always failed. But though this wasn't ballet – no, there was a touch of coarseness that made it impossible for the dance to be truly called by such a term, though it just made those moments of grace more elegant and potent – she could see that the man had a gift.

She felt the heavy tread of her brother and looked up to see what he thought of the dancer. Her brother had appreciated the dancers as much as she had, and had often taken her to watch the ballets back in Russia. But as her eyes found his face, she suddenly felt cold.

Ivan looked _enraptured_.

Natalya hated the mystery dancer, that _boy_.

**...**

I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter. Natalya has officially entered the main story.

Look out Lithuania!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4, even if no one's reviewing, then I'll just post it still.

Though it does make me sad when no one responds.

Hope you enjoy!

…**Chapter 4…**

Toris looked up at the immense ship, hardly able to believe his luck. Going to America was something that had seemed so impossible that he couldn't even dream of it.

Yet here he was.

"Ah, Miss Arlovskaya," he noticed the white-blonde girl pulling her bag, "Please, allow me."

She practically snarled at him as she shoved the heavy case into his hands, smiling cruelly when he fumbled and dropped it onto his foot. He kept his smile, even though on the inside he was bewildered.

How could she have come to hate him? He had only just met her little over a week ago, so why did she despise him so much?

Perhaps he was overreacting. She might just be shy. Comforting himself with this thought, he shouldered the bag and stepped aboard the massive ship.

But as he set foot onto _Подсолнечник_, he stomach gave a twinge. He ignored the feeling, it was probably just seasickness. Having been landlocked his entire life, it would not be unreasonable for the ocean to be uncomfortable to him.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself.

"Relax," Eduard pushed up his glasses and smiled at his older brother, "It's unsinkable, remember?"

…

Why was _he_ coming along?

Icy eyes glared at the brightly clad Lithuanian as he lugged her bag onto the ship, holding the hand of his youngest brother while laughing at something the middle child had said.

It's not like he was in any way important to Brother, was he? He was just his servant, and Brother never treated his servants so well. So why was he coming with them?

He suddenly looked up and flashed a bright smile at her, so happy that she momentarily had to fight back a resounding smile.

So _that_ was his power, he had somehow placed a spell on her big brother. She'd break it, and break his face while she was at it.

And then she and her brother could plan their wedding.

…

Not realizing the plans for his demise being thought furiously in front of him, Toris happily stared around him, every now and then remembering himself to tug little Raivis closer.

The child was so adorable; it was likely someone might grab him up to never let him return. It had nearly happened before, and the child's inability to sense danger only increased the likelihood of him becoming a target.

Toris didn't want to lose any more of his family. He didn't care what he would have to do to ensure that they would be fine.

They were all he had left.

He looked forward at his master and mistress to see her looking at him, an unpleasant expression on her face. Such a pretty visage shouldn't be scrunched up, so while some might consider this to be impertinent, he gave her a broad grin, and saw her eyes widen in shock before changing to something he couldn't quite recognize as she flipped her head back around, white-blonde hair flying.

He couldn't tell why she didn't seem as fond of him as her brother was, but he could see that she was _extremely_ fond of her sibling. Being fond of a sibling didn't puzzle him. He was very fond of his little brothers.

Yet something about her love for Mr. Braginski seemed a little…well, off. But it wasn't his place to judge the oddities of the nobility.

So he continued to follow the Russian and Belarusian onto the ship.

…

Natalya wasn't very happy with the arrangement of the rooms. Not only was that Lithuanian in the room between her and her brother, but Ivan, in an unimaginable fit of generosity, had given his brothers an unnecessary room to themselves, and _also_ placed it between theirs.

And not only was the Lithuanian between them, he was in an _adjoining_ room with Ivan. That wretched warlock was trying to steal her brother from her.

She had heard many a time that those who practiced magic cannot swim.

Would it be so hard for her to just give him a little push?

They were surrounded by water after all, and no one would risk their lives to save a commoner from drowning.


	5. Chapter 5

…**Chapter 5…**

Toris was uneasy as he followed his master down to dine, his siblings clinging close to him with Miss Arlovskaya clinging tightly to her brother's arm.

He had thought that he'd be ordered to dine in their room, where no one could see them, but the aristocrat was actually inviting them to come eat with him.

And when they arrived in the dining hall, Raivis's eyes looked like they were ready to pop out of his head with how wide they were growing.

Quickly, he ushered his siblings along, though he too wanted to stop and stare. This was a bounty set for a king…and yet he and his brothers were allowed to sit and feast upon it.

If it was just him, he'd think it a waste, but for his little brothers, he'd think it deserved. Sitting down, he took charge of his brothers' meals, only allowing them small portions of certain foods.

"Don't be like that, they can have whatever they wish, da?"

He gave a smile to his master, "Begging your pardon, but they are not used to such rich food, nor so much. I don't want them getting sick."

His platinum-haired master smiled indulgently at him.

"You need to eat too, da?"

Toris felt sheepish and rubbed the back of his head. He had forgotten his new life and momentarily fallen back into his old habits of feeding his brothers and neglecting himself.

"I guess I'm a little sea sick."

He had learned that Mr. Braginski got upset if he forgot that he was living on the Russian's kindness.

"At least have some toast," Eduard spoke up, "Sea sickness will be worse on an empty stomach."

The brunette looked at the glasses-wearing blond. He knew the younger knew why he hadn't eaten, and was grateful he had helped him out.

Miss Arlovskaya suddenly shoved her chair back and stalked out of the room, her head held high.

Startled like a deer, Toris whipped his head around to see what her brother thought of this, only to be taken aback and the almost relieved smile on the Russian's face at the departure of the Belarusian.

What an odd family.

…

Stupid Toris.

Stupid Ivan for being taken in by such tricks.

That boy had her brother eating out of the palm of his hands.

Poor Ivan, he was always too naïve for his own good. He was just too good, taking in little orphans off the street.

But he was crossing the line of what was decent and what was going overboard.

Don't worry, Brother, she'll take care of the little urchins for you.

His power will fade once he's sitting at the bottom of the ocean.

…

Toris tucked his younger brothers in, trying not to ponder too much on Miss Arlovskaya's dramatic entrance. If Mr. Braginski wasn't too alarmed, then it wasn't his place at all.

He couldn't help but wonder for a second why he was even so concerned about her in the first place. Especially when he didn't feel too much concern for his master as the recipient of her over-the-top affection.

Toris wasn't stupid, he could tell that she didn't like him. He couldn't say why she didn't, he just knew that she didn't seem to like him very much at all.

"Toris?" he quickly moved to the youngest's side.

"What is it, Raivis?" he kept his voice low so as not to wake the middle child.

"I heard music coming from the lower deck. Will you dance for us tomorrow?"

He smiled indulgently at the child, "If I have the time, I will. I'll dance for you as often as I'm allowed to."

At this, the eyelids that were struggling so hard to stay open finally closed.

He sighed. It was time to report to his master. Wincing, he placed a hand to his back.

The work was hard, and it was difficult to conceal its effects from his brothers.

But he could ride out the last few weeks until they got to America. Perhaps the workload would be easier there.


	6. Chapter 6

…**Chapter 6…**

Natalya was not pleased to be there. Nope, not pleased at all.

His dancing was ugly, his form was off. She wasn't enjoying herself one bit.

Not…one…little…_bit_.

She was watching Toris carefully, watching for any sign of his magic. She watched as his siblings cheered him on as he leapt and twirled.

Two larger men gave him a hand up onto a table where he performed a jig, his feet moving so fast that it was difficult to even see them.

His hair was currently tied back in a short tail down his back, but strands still worked themselves free to frame his angular face.

No, it was not an ethereal look.

No, her heart didn't skip a little beat at the sight.

If someone thought so, then obviously someone's been spiking the punch again.

She watched as he finished with his hands up in the air, and caught sight of a brief grimace of pain that was quickly smoothed over with his carefree smile before anyone else could notice.

This confused her.

As to why _she_ was watching so closely as to notice it…well, she just heard that you could cast spells through facial expressions. Nothing wrong with that.

He forced his shoulders back, standing tall as he gave a bow to the audience, and nodding to his brothers, left the room.

He seemed to trust the middle child to take care of the youngest while he was gone…she'd never seen him do that before.

Curious, she slipped out of her seat and followed him, confused at his stiff walk, completely unlike his usual flowing gait.

He was going down into the bowels of the ship, and after a brief hesitation about what she might find there, she continued to follow.

What was the lad doing?

…

Toris gave a sigh of relief as came to the sanctuary he had prepared yesterday when he had free time after doing Ivan's bidding.

It might not be the cleanest place, but it'll do.

He couldn't risk having this stuff in his room. Suppose his brothers came in and saw it? He couldn't risk that happening.

He just hoped his instincts were correct that no one would look for him here.

He pulled his shirt over his head, wincing, and then heard a soft gasp.

Toris immediately whirled around, his eyes searching the darkness for the person who followed him.

It wasn't who he would've expected.

"Miss Arlovskaya?"

…

Eduard didn't know what to think about the new-found freedom Toris was giving them.

True, there was only so much someone could do on a boat as far as kidnapping was concerned, and they _were_ under a very powerful person's protection, but he still couldn't help but wonder what was causing Toris to be more willing to leave him in charge when the eldest wasn't dancing.

The elder was alright, wasn't he?

He would tell them if he wasn't, wouldn't he?

Wouldn't he?


	7. Chapter 7

…**Chapter 7…**

Toris stared for a moment before frantically grabbing onto his shirt, trying to hide, but it was too late.

"What are those?" she questioned, entering the room, closing the door softly behind her, making the Lithuanian even more flustered.

"Oh, um, just clothes, you know, they got a little torn up and I want to fix them before Mr. Branginski sees-"

"Do not play the fool with me," her voice was chilling cold, her ice blue eyes penetrating his soul, "Where are those marks from?"

His shoulders slumped and the shirt hung from a hand, though he was careful not to let the fine fabric touch the dirty floor.

A self-berating smile appeared on his face, "Before Mr. Branginski found us; I was out looking for food for the other two. I got on the wrong side of some middle-classmen who thought I was lower than scum and that it'd be funny to use their horse's crop on me," he laughed, but there was no humor there, "The funny thing is that they probably would've healed by now if I didn't dance so much. They're fragile enough that too much dancing about causes them to reopen, like you just saw tonight."

"Let me see."

"But, but it isn't decent…"

"That _condition_ isn't decent. Now stay still and let me see."

She walked closer, circling around him, and the Lithuanian fought to remain still. He was reminded of predators, the way that they circle their prey, in a way. But for possibly the first time since he had met her, he didn't detect any murderous aura coming from her.

Was it too much to hope for that she might not hate him after all?

…

Ivan was feeling impatient for the time Toris would come. He wanted his little dancer near him; he wanted to see the boy. Smiling to himself, he busied himself with the paperwork he had to finish before arriving in America.

And then a thought struck him.

In America, Toris would leave him.

He clenched onto the pen. It snapped in two.

He couldn't let that happen.

Toris _wasn't_ going to leave him. Not if Ivan Branginski had anything to say about it. If he wouldn't stay for himself, he would definitely stay for his little brothers. It wasn't blackmail, it was simply keeping possession of something that belongs to him.

Only to him.

Toris was his, and always would be. He'd kill him before he'd let him leave him.

**...**

Sorry for the uber short chapter! If it makes things any better, I should be upating again in a few days.

Hope you enjoyed, and please review!


	8. Chapter 8

I promised a quick update, and here it is.

Enjoy, and Review!

…**Chapter 8…**

Natalya circled to behind him to see messily tied bandages being rapidly stained through by deep crimson.

He glanced around to look at her, puppy-like eyes looking sadly but cautiously at her, like a wild animal afraid of the predator. She had seen it before in the animals she took in that she found injured near her house.

Oh, don't look at her like that! She had a heart! It's not like she didn't like people, it's just that she didn't like those outside her family who tried to get close to Ivan.

And she loved animals. When she was younger, she had wanted to become a veterinarian. She couldn't remember when that had been replaced by the dream of marrying her brother, but it was.

The animals looked at her like that, leading her to believe that it was humans that had done it to them. If they could speak to her, she'd ask them who did this and hunt them down to let them feel every single pain that those poor innocent creatures did. But back to the victim at hand…

She felt a little hurt by the touch of fear in his eyes.

She wasn't that scary, was she? She just wanted to protect her brother from _things_ like him…

…wait, was she seriously considering _helping_ the creature?

That would be _completely_ counterproductive to her plan to get rid of him! She should be praying that the wounds get infected and that he dies a slow and painful death.

Her icy eyes met his again, and she relented.

Perhaps he wasn't quite so bad. Perhaps she'd been a bit quick to judge. No one with eyes that reminded her so much of an innocent animal could be evil, right?

And perhaps if she helped him, he'd do his best to stay away from Ivan.

She ventured closer and he flinched back before looking ashamed himself. Normally, this would be the moment where she'd retreat for a while before attempting to approach even slower again.

But while he might act like one, this was no injured animal. The boy would be able to understand her intentions without her needing to coddle him.

Besides, Ivan would eventually start wondering where they went, and NO ONE keeps Ivan waiting.

"Turn around," she ordered.

He opened his mouth to speak.

"Do it."

She didn't let him.

Sighing, he did as he was told, slumping his shoulders as he dropped the colorful shirt to the floor.

"Ivan won't be happy about you treating your clothes like this," she spoke, moving to take a closer look at his bandaged back.

"I'm a fair hand at getting stains out of clothes," the Lithuanian spoke, "So long as I clean them before he sees them again, he won't care."

She was close enough to touch the slender back now, and did so, reaching out a hand to touch the crusted bandages. She felt a shudder pass through the frail-looking body before he steadied and she moved to press her whole hand against the back, feeling the texture of the coverings.

"These won't come off so easily," she murmured, noting the nearly solid bandages, used so many times that they felt like plastic, "I'll have to cut it."

They were nasty anyways. It looked like they were once white, but had become a vomit-inducing color of dirty yellows, browns, and deep reds. She reached to get her blade.

"No!"

She raised an eyebrow as he turned around, crossing his arms, hugging himself, in an action that was purely defensive, head looking away, preparing for a strike.

"_Now_ what?"

He lifted his head to look at her, his cheeks flaming at his exposed torso as he ducked his head again, his hair covering his cheeks, "Those are the only ones I have. If you cut them, I won't be able to reuse them."

"That would be the point."

His head jerked up at this, green eyes once again staring into her icy orbs.

He opened his mouth to try to speak…

"I'll get you some replacements. Now stay still unless you want me to add some more scars," she moved behind him again and prepared to place the tip of the blade to the top layer of bandages.

"You don't have to do this for me, Miss Arlovskaya; I know you don't like me."

But there was nothing but defeat in his tone as his shoulders slumped.

She ignored him, cutting the hardened bandages free. She was thankful for the gloves she wore as the edges of the bandages tried to cut into her hands.

The coverings would've done more hurt than help, slicing into his back, the filth getting into the wounds that she could she were fairly deep.

In fact, their only purpose could've been to keep others from knowing his secret.

He was lucky he hadn't gotten an infection by now.

"We'll let it air while I go fetch replacements. _Stay_ _here_."

As she left, she thought she imagined him respond.

"It's not like I've got much of a choice."

But it must've been her imagination.

Toris didn't seem the type to retort like that.

…

Eduard gave up on waiting for Toris to return.

He had probably been summoned by Mr. Branginski and so wasn't able to come fetch them.

And if not…then it would be best not to let his master know.

He could only wonder where the eldest was.

And pray that he was all right.

…

Natalya returned to the brig of the ship, her arms full of bandages, trying not to think of how she was going to help her worst enemy.

The people back home would be surprised, shocked, to see her even consider something like that.

It was one of the side-effects of being considered the ice-princess. None of them knew of the countless animals she took in; whether she liked them or not, they still deserved her help. But there was one creature she loved most of all. She rarely saw them, and there'd be no way to help an injured one if she did come across it, but…

Natalya had always liked butterflies, their fragile wings flapping in the air.

Yes, that's what he reminded her of, a butterfly.

And it was because of that resemblance, and the one to a scared little animal, that she'd help him.

And anyone who said otherwise…was lying through their teeth after swallowing too much vodka.

Now if only someone explain that to her heart, which was beating too fast for just a mere butterfly.

…

He was ashamed to note that part of him didn't believe she'd return.

That she'd leave him down there to get blood poisoning, or to attempt to venture back upstairs with his torn back visible.

He was relieved when she returned, bandages of such a pristine white in hand that he thought she was holding snow.

"Turn back around."

He obeyed the order, and she started wrapping them around his torso, tight enough to stay flat, but not so tight as to cut off his oxygen.

"Thank you," he breathed as she pinned the final strip in place and stepped away, letting him grab his shirt and dust it off, "Thank you, Miss Arlovskaya."

"Natalya."

He stopped short of pulling the shirt over his head.

"I beg your pardon?"

"My name is Natalya. You may call me that."

"But Miss Arlovskaya…"

"If we are alone, I will not respond unless you call me Natalya."

"But…"

She shot him a glare.

"I understand."

"You understand _what_, Toris?"

His breath jerked in his chest at the sound of his name, and he was sure it had nothing to do with the bindings.

"I understand…Natalya."


	9. Chapter 9

Okay, this was a difficult chapter to write. You see, it's not going to take them very long to cross the ocean in this time period, therefore I have to build a semi-trusting relationship and then rip it apart all before the iceberg hits.

So, sorry if this is going a bit too fast.

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter 9…<strong>

She didn't know why she had insisted on being called by her first name. His status barely let him address her at all, yet she was _asking_ him to call her by her first name, like it was somehow _important_ that he do so.

And she had said his.

It was a stupid move; now it wouldn't be a simple attempt of drowning the animal she had almost been able to convince herself that he was.

She flipped around once he had said her name and left without another word.

See what he thought of _that_.

…

Ivan wondered where his little servant had gone. He was not with his brothers, obviously, he had seen the younger two returning to their room.

Natalya was missing, but Ivan considered that a blessing. He wouldn't admit it, but his younger sister often scared him. Why couldn't she understand that they were siblings, and stop insisting on technicalities?

He wrenched his mind off this disturbing subject to ponder once again on where Toris was.

Not still dancing. His brothers admired his performances too much to even miss a second of them.

Ivan growled.

He hated the thought of others watching what was his, but the Lithuanian had begged so prettily that he allowed him this one favor. But once he had established their home in the New World, Toris would dance only for him. Well, maybe he'd permit the boy's brothers to watch as well.

But Toris would be _his_.

He heard the door creak open.

"Sorry, Master Branginski," Toris bowed low, waiting to be allowed to stand upright again.

"Where were you?"

"I lost track of time when I was talking to some others after my performance. I was giving advice on dancing."

This made Ivan's blood boil.

Something that was his was talking to others.

Toris belonged solely to him. It was time he taught him that lesson.

Again.

…

Natalya found some antiseptic in her room and suddenly recalled that she hadn't cleaned the wound. She'd have to fix that…it's not that she cared; it's just that she didn't like to leave a job halfway.

Strangely enough, when she opened the Lithuanian's door, no one was there. But the adjoining door was opened just a crack.

And noises were emerging.

Stealthily (perfect from practice) she crossed over to the crack and put an eye to the door.

And what she saw made her jerk back in disbelief.

There was Toris, his back freshly bleeding, and her brother standing over him, ripping at the old scabs and alternating with a long riding crop.

No, this couldn't be.

Ivan was always so gentle, he couldn't hurt a fly.

And then the realization came to her.

This must be part of the Lithuanian's magic.

Look at him, he wasn't even crying out.

…

Toris looked up and met icy eyes through the crack of the door and felt a pit open up in his stomach.

Now she'd know he lied to her. Now she saw the truth.

And he had a feeling that it had undone all the progress he had made in getting her not to hate him.

* * *

><p>Okay, now Natalya might be acting just a tad unreasonable, but you have to remember that Toris hadn't earned her trust yet. He had received her pity, and her help, but she doesn't trust him, and is more inclined to believe well of Ivan than she is of the guy she had just been planning to throw overboard at the first opportunity.<p>

And I'm sorry I had to do that to Toris, I really am. But it had to happen for the story to work. I know it doesn't seem fair to have Natalya disliking him again for something that's not his fault and is actually quite painful to him, but when is life fair?

I hope that you will keep reading, because I do plan for things to get better.

But sometimes, things have to get worse before they can get better.


	10. Chapter 10

Here's another chapter, uploaded for your reading pleasure.

Natalya knows the truth now, how will she treat Toris now? Will she see who Ivan really is? Or will she continue to deceive herself?

Read on to find out.

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter 10…<strong>

Natalya continued to glare at him the next day, just as she had before their momentary truce the day before, at that moment of understanding where he had finally let someone know about his wounds and she had bandaged them up. He had thought that things were finally going to change. Guess not. And though Toris wanted to remain quiet, to allow her to think poorly of him in order to protect her, there was another part of him that wanted something different.

He _wanted_ to tell her, tell her that he was sorry for lying to her, but better yet, tell her _why_ he was sorry.

And it was that part which was in control whilst his master took his midafternoon nap, whilst his brothers also slept.

He found her in her usual spot, up on the bow of the ship, her head turned into the breeze that blew her beautiful hair back away from her face, like wispy clouds against the light blue sky.

She looked so peaceful that he almost didn't want to interrupt her.

Almost.

"Miss Arlovskaya," he spoke, respectfully bowing to, then standing, hands behind his back, "I would like to apologize…"

"For bewitching my brother?" she interrupted, snapping her head around to glare at him, "Ivan wouldn't hurt anyone, so why have you changed him?"

"Changed him?" Toris was taken aback by these words, "I don't understand…"

"Oh don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about," she tossed her hair over her shoulder, "You're a witch; I know your little secret."

"A witch?" his brain seemed to be moving slower than usual.

She snorted, a very unladylike move, "Stop pretending to be stupid, it doesn't suit you. If you don't stop what you're doing to my brother, I will ensure that you drown, and your little witches-in-training as well…"

He could feel something in him snap at her stalwart defense of the man that had abused him so much in the few weeks, as well as the threats towards his brothers. He had thought that she was upset with him for lying, for seeing a side of her brother that no girl would ever want to see, but he was wrong, and her cold words made him angry.

That was the only explanation he could give for his actions then.

His hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist, yanking her to her feet as he stomped across the deck, heading for the brig where they could speak in private.

…

Natalya was surprised by his strength, completely unexpected from his wiry frame.

She couldn't break free, and she loathed to cry out, for some strange reason.

She could do it; she could bring the guards of the ship down on them.

But she went on with it for some reason, and felt guilty for the words she had spat out at him.

Finally, they reached his destination, and he swung her inside, closing the door behind him, blocking it with his thin body.

"I will let you out, you need not fear of that," he spoke smoothly, his voice cold, something she had never known it to be.

It was always warm, even when speaking to her elder brother, whom part of her reasoned that he must hate after what he's been put through.

But he was still speaking.

"However, I ask that you _please_ listen to what I have to say first, Miss Arlovskaya."

…

Deep down inside, Toris was scared, scared that she'd refuse, scared that she'd force her way past and put his brothers in harm's way.

Scared that he had overstepped his boundaries.

"I believe I have told you to address me as Natalya when we are alone."

All those worries fell away at those words, even as coldly as they were spoken.

He noticed that she sat down on a crate, making herself comfortable, heedless of any dirt that might mess her dress.

Perhaps she didn't hate him as much as she had originally.

"Well, are you going to tell me or not?"

He did.

…

Natalya felt something that seemed oddly like guilt deep in her stomach.

And…belief?

No, why was she even listening to this boy who said such horrible things about her brother?

Ivan wouldn't do anything like that to someone.

He wouldn't.

Right?

But there was something in Toris's eyes that made her believe him, as much as she hated it.

"Natalya?"

The simple act of calling her name regained her attention instantly, and she looked up to see him blushing, uncomfortable with the informality of his address.

"I need to think," she said shortly, doing her best to not allow her voice to tremble.

His face fell at that, but he nodded as he extended a hand to help her up.

Suddenly a wave of anger flowed through her.

Raising a hand, she slapped the offending appendage away, steely eyes looking straight into his.

"I've thought," her voice was like ice, "You've lied to me already. How do I know that this isn't another one?"

"You don't," he gave her a sad smile; "You'd just have to trust me."

"My brother is not like that. I know he is not. I know him better than anyone. I _love_ him!"

He stood resolute.

"Everyone has secrets they keep from the rest of the world."

"Not from me. Not from his bride-to-be."

"So he has consented?"

"Well…no, not exactly," why was Toris asking this of her?

"Not exactly?" he sounded skeptical, condescending even.

"He will!" she defended.

"Natalya," he said frankly, "You are his sister."

"Only half!"

"It is enough," he moved from the doorway, "I won't keep you any longer, Natalya, but I wish you would open your eyes…"

She brushed past him, "I have changed my mind. You may no longer call me by that name, Mr. Lorinaitis. You have lost that privilege."

She thought him mutter something mockingly as she left.

"Yes, your _highness_."

She chose to ignore it.


	11. Chapter 11

We're finally getting to the main focus of this story.

Unfortunately, in this time period, it didn't take too long to cross the Atlantic, so sorry if this is seeming a bit rushed (I think I've said it before, but I'll say it again).

I hope everyone enjoys! Or as much as they can enjoy that is.

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter11…<strong>

It was the loud crunch that woke her. Then, rapidly, the knocking on her door.

She didn't want to move, why were they coming to her anyways? Big Brother was the one in charge. He was the one who'd pay for the picture she had slashed to pieces with knives after the conversation with Toris.

She had done them a favor anyways, the piece was ugly and by a no-name artist. They shouldn't have even had it onboard this ship.

She curled over in bed, hugging the pillow as she willed them to stop so that she could return to her dream about…Ivan. Yeah, that was the one she was dreaming about.

But the knocking didn't cease. It kept beating on her ears until she finally realized that it wouldn't stop until she did something about it.

Sighing, she left her warm bed, wrapping a dressing gown around her body so as to conserve her heat, as well as to preserve her modesty.

Whoever had made her get up was going to be very sor…

She opened the door, and saw a panting Toris leaning against the doorframe, practically gasping for breath.

"Miss Arlovskaya!" he exclaimed before she had the chance to say a word, "The ship's sinking!"

…

He could see her eyes widen as she pulled him into her room before shoving him towards her bed.

"Sit down," she ordered, and he almost did as she said before he realized exactly what she said.

"I can't, it's not…"

"I _command_ you to sit down and stop worrying about that in a scenario like this!"

He made a face, "You need to change into something warmer, and I need to get my brothers."

She pointed to the adjoining door (suddenly it didn't seem quite so bad to be in the room next to the little ones), "Then go fetch them, but tell me what's going on while you wake them."

"I can't. I'll just get them moving and then come back to tell you."

"Why are you making things so…"

"Do you really want them panicking? If I tell them what I'm telling you, that's what they'll do!"

She looked at him, and he suddenly seemed to find the floor very interesting.

"Are you not scared of me panicking?" her voice was soft.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, but was likely only a few seconds, he met her eyes, "I trust you to stay calm."

She broke the gaze first, "Go get them moving, and report immediately back to me. I'll change as fast as I can."

Toris nodded and left for his brothers.

But he couldn't help but wonder where Ivan was.

…

"Eduard, get up please."

The Estonian groggily came to the surface in time to see Toris turn to his other brother, who was wiping sleep from his huge eyes.

"What's goin' ohn, Toris?" Raivis's voice was even more childlike. He would have laughed at it, maybe even teased his youngest brother…if the ship was currently in the process of sinking.

"They're giving you a surprise," Toris smiled warmly; "You get to go for a boat ride late at night and see the stars. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"But it's phast owr bedtime…"

"I'll allow it this once."

"Rweally?"

"Really."

…

Natalya kept an ear out for next door as Toris gave an explanation to the younger two, weaving a story of happiness and reward, while she dressed herself in her warmest clothes. If there was one benefit of being from Belarus, it would be that she was well prepared for the bitter cold.

Toris's voice was so soothing, that if she hadn't seen him in such disarray earlier, she would've believed that all they were doing was going out for a little drifting on the open sea to look at the stars.

But she wouldn't be taking all of her furs if that was all it was, nor the majority of her money.

All too soon, Toris was back, knocking on her door as she granted him entrance.

"Speak."

He did.

"We've hit an iceberg. They're evacuating people in case we sink completely before someone comes to save us. It's more of a precaution than anything else."

She gave him a look.

"Do you really think that?"

"To be honest…not really. I hope I'm proved wrong."


	12. Chapter 12

Okay, now I might be getting into the stuff that will make everyone hate me, so I'm sorry.

And sorry for how short it is. I'll get the next chapter up soon.

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter 12…<strong>

"We should get going," Toris spoke after the uncomfortable silence, "I'm sorry to say that it might be best to head straight up and avoid your brother."

"Why?" her voice regained a hint of its coldness.

The Lithuanian took a deep breath.

There was no easy way to say it.

"They're only letting women and children into the life boats right now," he wanted to shut up, but he couldn't lie to her, not about something as important as this was. Besides, she would never forgive him if he lied right now, "He might be a little upset about that."

"Da, I am."

The two whirled to see the large Russian close the adjoining door and lock it shut.

From the looks of it, he had done the same to the door leading out to the hall.

"Ivan," Natalya breathed out, her eyes full of adoration before the cold reality of what he was doing hit her, "What are you doing?"

"You were going to leave me alone, da? I can't let that happen."

He pulled a pistol from his pocket and pointed it at Toris, "Do you really want everyone to leave me?"

The Lithuanian felt like he couldn't breathe.

Staring down the barrel of a gun could do that to a man.

…

Eduard heard noises from the next room, but resisted the temptation to see what was going on.

Something told him that he wouldn't like it very much.

"When will Toris come back?" Raivis asked him, excited for the promised trip.

He wanted to believe Toris about that, he truly did. But something rang false about the whole ordeal. But his ability to tell whether or not Toris was lying seemed to be screwed up lately. He was likely worried over nothing.

"Soon."

He hoped he was telling the truth.

..

"All I ask is for one of you to stay behind," the Russian spoke, a childish smile on his face, "That's not too much to ask, da? I just don't want to be alone."

Toris could see the trembles in his face and knew that the Russian was trying to hide his fear, his terror of going down into the cold dark ocean, never to surface again.

Natalya saw no such thing, but felt immensely guilty. She had been deeply considering abandoning the man she loved.

How could she be willing to do that?

She deserved to die.

Natalya opened her mouth, ready to say those four little words.

"I'll stay, Mr. Branginski."

Someone beat her to it.


	13. Chapter 13

Eh, sorry it's another short chapter. Hopefully I'll make it up for you in the next one. I'm just trying to keep the right rhythm, but it's not as easy to keep track of that as it is comedy. Weird, I was always told that comedy was harder than tragedy, yet it seems very different right now.

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter 13…<strong>

He was smiling blithely, ignoring the shocked glance she threw at him.

"I wasn't going to leave. I had just hoped that I'd be able to see my brothers and Miss Arlovskaya off first," his voice was soothing, intended to tame the wild beast that Ivan had almost become.

Inside she was rankling at the fact that he had called her by her surname, but there were more important things to be upset about.

"What are you talking about, Toris?" she hissed, trying to ignore the glee on her brother's face at not having to die alone.

He turned that happy warm smile on her, but even it couldn't melt the coldness that was encasing her at hearing that he planned to stay behind.

"Didn't you hear me, Miss Arlovskaya?"

"Natalya," she gritted out through her teeth, correcting him.

He just smiled again and continued as though she hadn't said anything, as though the words he was saying were easy to speak, rolling off his tongue effortlessly, "They're only letting _women_ and _children_ on the lifeboats right now. No matter how I may look, I am neither."

No, he couldn't stay behind, he just _couldn't_, "But, I've got dresses, something must fit…"

He shook her words off with the shaking of his head, "I'm not going to lie about what I am. I won't take the space from someone who needs it more than I do," his grin widened, and for a moment she could pretend nothing was wrong, "Besides, your brother won't let you and my brothers off unless I do this."

"I'm going to my room," Ivan barked, satisfied that he wouldn't be left completely alone, "I'll be back in a few minutes to escort you to the deck. I need to grab my jacket, its cold up there, da?"

"Yes, we will wait for you," the way he spoke made it seem like they were just planning to go down to dinner together.

When he left, Toris turned back to the girl who was still trying to think of a way to save him, to save the boy that deserved to live much more than she.

"Miss Arlovskaya, I'm sorry to be asking this of you, but do you think you could give my brothers a hand? I won't be there to help them anymore. I'm not asking you to take care of them forever, but if you could find them a spot to live…"

"I'll do that if you do one thing," her mind was moving at the speed of light, but her mouth was on autopilot.

"What is that?"

She looked levelly at him, but the words she wanted to say the most faltered in her mouth and different ones came out instead, "Call me Natalya, like I've asked you to do already."

He smiled at her and gave a tiny bow, his green eyes never leaving her own icy blue, "Yes, Natalya."


	14. Chapter 14

…**Chapter 14…**

It was weird how easy it was to speak these lies to them. Maybe it was the necessity of doing so that made the words dance so easily off his tongue.

"According to Ivan, they're also treating this as a drill if we are…say, hit by an iceberg at sea," Toris spoke cheerfully to the younger two, "Therefore, some people are going to panic because they are silly and think a drill means a real thing. So, ignore what everyone else says but the people in your boat and Miss Arlovskaya."

"What about you, Toris?" Eduard asked; his older brother just laughed, ruffling the middle child's already tousled bedhead.

"They're doing this first session for women and children only. I'll be getting on when they start letting the men in, so you'll be out there for a bit without me. Won't that be fun?"

"We'll stop here," Ivan spoke, giving Toris a look that made the man just smile at him before turning to the most important people in his life.

Immediately, Toris hugged his younger siblings.

"Be good, okay?"

It was hard keeping his voice from trembling, but he managed it.

"Do whatever Miss Arlovskaya asks you to do, alright?"

He didn't release them until he had gotten confirmations from both.

And then he turned to Natalya.

He held out a hand, and hesitantly she took it.

She didn't expect to be pulled into a hug of her own.

"Please excuse me for this, but this will be the only time I can hug you without worrying about your brother killing me," he spoke cheerfully, but she knew what he really meant.

He was taller than her; she realized that as he rested his forehead on hers, his back to his brothers and Ivan, all of whom were waiting for him to finish. Startled, she saw bright teardrops roll down his face and understood why he had angled them this way.

"Take care of them for me, please," he spoke softly, his voice wavering with emotion, "Please, _Natalya_, they're all I have."

She didn't have to think about it for an instant. She'd do it. She just wished it was _her_ he was talking about with such emotion.

And then suddenly his warm arms were gone, and so were the tears as his bright smile appeared again.

She had to marvel at the speed of his emotion changes. Forget dancer, the boy should've been an actor.

No, should _be_. There was a chance that someone could come save them.

Someone definitely would.

She believed that.

Someone _had_ to save him. Such a bright light shouldn't be so easily extinguished, not when a selfish person like herself was permitted to go free.

"Go have fun!" he waved them along, laughing like a giddy child, retreating back to where Ivan was, "I'll see you later, everyone!"

He stared after them as they were helped onto the boat, and she returned the gaze until they were lowered out of sight below the side of the ship.

…

Toris followed Ivan back to their rooms, ignoring the frantic attempts of people to make it up to the decks, trying to get out desperately.

"I am glad that you didn't leave me, Toris."

He forced his smile back on his face, pushing away the thoughts, the traitorous whispers that cried out that he was always being strong for others, and what had it gotten him? He could've gotten Raivis and Eduard moving sooner and told them what was going on as he spoke to Natalya. He could've borrowed one of her dresses, and all of them would have been on the boat before Ivan had arrived.

They could've even snuck out before Ivan had returned from getting his coat.

But the simple realization that the Russian man had _needed_ him had held him back, had kept him from deceiving the sailors, had kept him from staying with his family and…Natalya.

He hadn't gotten the chance to tell her what he had felt for her…but it was better this way. It would only have been a burden if he had spoken his true feelings for her when they both knew that he was going to die.

"Talk to me. Your tongue is not frozen, da?"

He walked…no, he _danced_ over to where Ivan had sat on the bed, twirling in his final performance.

There was no music, but he could imagine it, smiling as the Russian grasped onto the distraction that the Lithuanian had provided. How like his brothers, the man was. At least it was easier this way.

"I've been friends with sailors in the past, you know," the dancing continued.

"Da?"

"And they spoke to me about going out to sea."

Silence followed this statement as Toris propelled himself into the air as he spun before coming back down onto his toes. He felt the scars strain open, staining the fresh bandages he had found outside his room this morning before soaking through to mark red wings on the back of his shirt.

He was grateful that she hadn't abandoned him completely, even if she was furious. He might not have done as good of a job fixing himself up as she had, but they were tight, and lasted.

It's not like they would be needed much longer.

"They said that drowning was perhaps the best death they could think of."

The quiet became almost disbelieving as the dancer moved his arms to the absent music.

"No, I am telling the truth. They said that it was practically preferable to any other death they could think of. Do you know why?"

"No."

Toris smiled widely, finishing up the performance with a bow.

"They say that it is almost like going to sleep."

He lifted his head to look at scared violet orbs with his own happy green.

"And because they have nearly drowned on several occasions, I believe them. After all, what is death except for a very long sleep filled with happy dreams?"

Ivan nodded at this, hesitantly, but he nodded.

How innocent he was, even with the stings still paining Toris's back, how like a child he acted.

Leaving him would've been like attempting to abandon his own brothers. Maybe it was weak of him to give in so easily, but that was the way that he was. He couldn't pretend to be something different.

He didn't want to die living a lie.


	15. Chapter 15

Hey, I'm not done yet, there's more after this chapter, though it is pretty close to the end of the series. Just giving a heads-up for those who might think this is the end.

It's not done yet!

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter 15…<strong>

"Miss Arlovskaya," a cute voice called as the Belarusian felt her sleeve tugged on. She looked down at the child; Raivis, Toris had said his name was.

"Yes?"

"When will we be going back to the ship so that Toris can have his turn?"

She stared at him for a moment before turning away, "I don't know."

She looked back at the ship, ignoring the two boys pointing out the bright stars to each other.

There was no point in looking up to find the brightest of them all, for it was on the brink of disappearing for good.

Her tongue felt heavy with all the words that came to mind, all words that she wished had come earlier. Even a few minutes previous would have been better than now, with nothing but the empty ocean to hear them.

…

Hours passed and Natalya felt nearly frozen, even in all her furs and layers, even with two other sources of warmth next to her.

She had wrapped her winter coat around the boys in an unusual act of kindness, and let them snuggle close to her, though pointedly ignoring the other people in the boat.

It was for her own warmth, she would say if anyone had asked her, but the Natalya of old would've rather frozen than endure the touch of children like this.

She had fought back tears as she watched the majestic ship go down with her two loves on it, one old and one new. Tears would only freeze and make her colder. She needed to stay warm for the boys…because she made a promise, and she would keep the promise…even if it did include a couple of snot-nosed brats.

The only thing she was thankful for was that the boys were fast asleep before this happened. They didn't see the ship start to sink, its nose pointed up in the air. They didn't see it crack in two, the weight too much for even the large ship to bear. They didn't hear the screams of those who hadn't been able to get off, and they didn't hear the sudden silence that followed the sinking.

She knew that letting them sleep probably wasn't the best thing in this climate, but she couldn't let them watch. She'd keep them warm, even going so far as to remove her numerous socks and gloves to place them over the boys' own feet and hands, and cuddle them closer.

She wouldn't let them get cold enough for sleeping to be a problem. She wouldn't allow it.

She sat there, dazed as she watched the spot where the ocean had swallowed up the ship, taking with it two men who were important to her, even though one had only just achieved this distinction.

She dazed off, but didn't realize it until she heard a voice.

"Miss, are you alright?"

Her head jerked up to see a man who was smiling sadly at her from aboard another lifeboat. Behind him she could see the lights of a great ship.

She nodded, though she felt like the cold had frozen her joints. A ship had come to save them. _Finally_.

A huge grin crossed his face, "Great! 'Cause I'm here to rescue you! I'm your hero!"

He earned a whack on the head from his companion who then asked, "Are the children alright?" his emerald eyes locking with hers.

For a moment it was as though she could breathe freely again before she realized that Toris's eyes were a different green, the color of warm things growing, rather than the chilly gemstone orbs the other man possessed. It was one of the things she had liked about Toris, thinking on it right now. His warm eyes were such a contrast to her own icy-colored ones.

"I-I think so," her vocal chords felt icy also. She noticed that the rest of the boat had been evacuated already, leaving only her and Tor…the two children.

"That's good to hear," she was able to discern a British accent this time when he spoke, "Are you able to help them up here, or shall one of us come down to you?"

As much as it killed her pride to admit it, she couldn't move.

Everyone needed to be helped up onto the rescue boat.

…

They settled her with a huge blanket around her outside of the infirmary while they tended to the brothers.

Eduard had slight frostbite in his toes, and the delicate Raivis had hypothermia.

She felt guilty that she couldn't have protected them better; guilty that she was better off than both of them health-wise.

It's funny how two strangers had suddenly become so important to her.

The doctors had told her that it wasn't her fault; that the cold affected people differently, but that hadn't eased the guilt building up in her chest.

"What's your name, Miss?"

It was the loud rescuer, the one who spent the entire time on the ride back to the bigger ship proclaiming his hero-ness or something like that.

"Natalya, Natalya Arlovskaya."

He grinned at her, "I'm Alfred F. Jones! Were those two your little brothers?"

He gestured his head at the door that closed her off from her new charges.

"No."

Normally, that's all she'd say.

But she continued.

"They belonged to a man who went down with the ship, a man who could dance on the very air."

He stared at her like she was crazy. She wanted to laugh at that.

Well, maybe she was.

"Anyways, since their brother is dead…" she felt a stab as he said that, "…I suppose we'll be making arrangements to put them in an orphanage…"

"No."

He looked at her confused, not having expected her to say that.

"Miss Arlovskaya, no one's expecting you to take care of two children with no relation to you…"

"I _will_ take care of them, Mr. Jones. I promised their brother."

"With all due respect, mam, I highly doubt their brother meant…"

"I _will_ look after them," she repeated firmly, eyes flashing the same ice blue of the iceberg that had downed the ship, "Is there a problem with that?"

"Well, um, no," he seemed sheepish, "It does put less of a burden on the government this way since you seem fairly well off, but…"

"No buts, Mr. Jones. They are my responsibility now."

The prospect didn't seem quite as daunting as it should be.

He smiled at her.

"If you need help, just call on me! I'll come to your rescue!"

Normally she'd brush off the offer of help with a scornful glance.

"I will consider it."

She was no longer just looking out for herself, though. She wouldn't let her pride hurt..._Toris_'s little brothers if there was any way she could stop it.

"That's great!" Mr. Jones responded happily, before looking over her shoulder and calling out to someone he saw there, "Hey, Arty! Come over and meet Natalya!"

"You git!" he whacked his partner over the head before turning apologetically to the still-frozen girl, "My apologies, Miss. He's American, and is unfortunately much too used to addressing people by heir first names right off the bat."

"But she's our friend now, Arty!"

"My name is Arthur," he growled, before turning to bow to Natalya, "Arthur Kirkland, Miss...?"

"Arlovskaya," she reached out a hand to him, shaking his hand politely, "I wish I could say it was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Kirkland..."

"That's understandable," he brushed her apologies off with a small smile, "I too wish that we had met under different circumstances, Miss Arlovskaya."

"Hey, what about me!" Mr. Jones complained.

"Not everything's about you," Mr. Kirkland responded.

But the brash American ignored him, "So, do you want to be friends, Natalya?"

She was a little taken aback by that. No one had asked her this before.

"I barely know you, Mr. Jones..."

"Call me Alfred!" his grin looked like it was ready to wrap around his whole face, "Mr. Jones was my father! It makes me feel as old as...Arty!"

"You git!" it looked as though the Brit was forcibly restraining himself from letting loose worse curses in front of a lady.

Natalya had to admit; watching their dynamic arguements made her want to laugh. At first she held herself back form doing so, but then she recalled that Toris always had a smile on his face, and would likely wish for her to do the same.

And so she laughed.

It made the other two stop bantering with each other for a moment before they chuckled, joining in her slightly hysterical laughter.

Eventually, she was able to calm down enough to be quiet.

"You two will help me?" she asked.

They both smiled and nodded at her.

"You're in good hands, Miss Arlovskaya," Mr. Kirkland spoke, "The git might not always think before he speaks, but he's got a good heart."

"Aw, don't see yourself short, Arty," that was Alfred.

Maybe she'd be able to make it through after all. Maybe someday she'd be able to think of Toris and Ivan without her heart aching.

Just not today.


	16. Chapter 16

Okay, just a quick warning. This might be the area where I really start messing up. If you'd rather not risk it, I'd understand if you want to pretend like last chapter was the only one. If you read on, then feedback would be very much appreciated.

Thank you, I hope you enjoy.

* * *

><p>…<strong>Chapter 16…<strong>

It was a year later.

She had adopted the boys in the eyes of the government, and enrolled them in the best school New York had to offer.

Somehow, she couldn't stray far from where they had finally landed.

Eduard was excelling, top of his class in every subject, and colleges were starting to look at him, despite his young age.

Raivis was the darling of his school, though surprisingly intelligent as well once you got past the tremors he often experienced.

It hadn't been easy to tell them their brother was dead.

Eduard went stone-faced.

Raivis cried.

Natalya felt like she would break down herself.

But she stayed strong. It was what Toris would've wanted.

She became friends with Mr. Jones, who had finally coaxed her into calling him Alfred, as well as Mr. Arthur Kirkland, their other rescuer.

She knew she hadn't exactly made the friendship easy to make, but it was difficult when the simple act of seeing them reminded her of that night when Toris had volunteered to stay behind.

She wished she had gotten to know him better in the short time they had been together. She had wasted too much time being obsessed with a man that would never love her back, of a man that could be so cruel to those he thought would leave him.

Ivan wasn't the way she thought he was. He wasn't the man she thought he was.

And though she couldn't just stop loving him; she started to pity him. And she started to pity herself for not seeing the child inside, for continuously forcing herself on him despite the fact that he only saw himself as her elder brother.

Since then, Natalya had been asked out many times, but she turned each down with a cold glare. She was quickly amassing a name for herself as the Ice Queen, and everyone avoided her but for Alfred (who was too oblivious to notice) and Arthur (who found her silence comforting).

In fact, the American and the Brit were over right now. They were over so often; it was practically like they lived here as well. They even had their own bedrooms for when they were guests.

The two had bullied their way into her life, and while she resented the intrusion, she was glad that she wasn't alone. They had helped her with Eduard and Raivis, helped her raise them right and get them a good education.

She had known nothing about such things before she came here. If they hadn't forced their way in, she would've felt like she was disappointing Toris by not letting his brothers get what he thought, no, _knew_ they deserved.

She sat in her chair that night, curled up by the fireplace, hugging her knees to her chest.

That was one thing that night had changed, she grew to hate the cold.

Come winter, she shrouded herself with numerous layers, to the point that you could barely see her nose poking out from beneath her cap. Even in the summer she went around wearing jeans, long-sleeved shirts, and sweaters.

But no matter what she tried, she couldn't get warm. She could turn the thermostat up till it threatened to burst from overheating, until Raivis and Eduard were sweating in their swimsuits, but there was something inside her that would never warm. And that something felt like it was her heart.

Perhaps there was some truth to her being an "Ice Queen" after all.

There was a knocking on the door.

She waved a hand at Alfred. She didn't want to move.

Grumbling, Alfred went to the door for her.

She could hear his loud voice, but nothing of the other's.

"What is it?"

…

"I'm sorry, but Miss Arlovskaya isn't taking visitors."

…

"Yes, she lives here. Who are you? How do you know her?"

…

"I wouldn't mention _that_ if I were you. She doesn't like thinking about _that_."

She sighed.

There was only one "_that_" when it came to her that Alfred knew of.

It must be another reporter wanting to know about that night.

She got to her feet, slipping her toes into her slippers as she clutched the sweater tighter around her.

It had once belonged to Alfred, but it grew too small for him, so he decided to give it to her, and she reluctantly accepted. She had to admit that it was comfortable, especially for lazing about on nights such as this.

"I said she doesn't take visitors!"

It sounded like Alfred was getting violent. She pulled the blanket around her shoulders, holding it closed, knowing that she looked like a homeless waif with it shrouding her slight figure, but she didn't care.

She saw Arthur emerge from the kitchen where he was preparing their evening tea, a frown on his face at the prospect of having to restrain his friend once again.

She moved faster. She didn't want her new home destroyed.

She entered the front hall to see the American grappling with another young man with longish brown hair, and a tall blonde man coming to his rescue, a chorus of other blondes behind him.

But as her eyes zeroed in on the brunette, she could feel her heart stop.

He saw her too, and looked into her eyes.

"Miss Arlovskaya."

* * *

><p>So, is it who you think it is?<p>

Let's just say that I'm not a big person for sad endings. I do prefer them to be happy.


	17. Chapter 17

Short chapter but I'll update soon.

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><p>…<strong>Chapter17…<strong>

"Alfred, stop!"

It took her a while to realize that it was her that said it.

Startled at the emotion in her voice, the American released him and took a step back.

She ventured closer, hands wrapped around herself as though she was holding herself together, trying not to fall apart, peering into that face.

"Are you a ghost?" she asked.

Alfred immediately went into panic mode.

"That's a ghost! Oh shoot! How do you get rid of a ghost? Does anyone have any holy water? Or does that only work on vamp…"

He was cut off by Arthur wrapping a hand around his mouth.

"Shut up, git, that's no ghost."

"Then is this some sort of prank?" she asked, her eyes never leaving his green ones, ignoring her friends.

Her voice was starting to tremble, but she couldn't stop it.

Arthur noticed, he was adept at reading the situation.

He looked at the brunette's blond friends, "Would you like to come in for a cup of tea? We can let them sort this out by themselves."

The blonds nodded and filed into the house, closing the door behind them, and moving past her.

But she couldn't take her eyes off him.

It seemed like forever before he finally moved, and then he walked over to her with a halting limp, and hesitantly placed a hand to her cheek.

"This is no prank, Miss Arlovskaya."

Tears were starting to run down her cheeks, "Then how are you here? You're dead."

He shook his head, "No, I am not. I am very much alive, Miss Arlovskaya."

"Stop that," she snapped.

"Stop what?" he asked, recoiling back, his hand leaving her face.

Now she moved, coming forward and wrapping her arms around him, burying her face where his shoulder met his neck.

"I told you to call me Natalya," she whispered before breaking down into tears.

For the first time since that night, she felt _warm_.

…

"So, how are you alive?" she asked, curled up next to him on the couch with their friends scattered about the room. She kept touching his shoulder as though to reassure herself that he was actually here, alternating that with pinching herself to make sure that this wasn't a dream.

All of her layers were lying next to her, leaving her in a long-sleeved shirt and jeans, but even that felt a little too warm. It looked like she would have to invest in some cooler clothes.

She had been introduced to the blonds that had followed Toris in, and found that they were all from the Nordic countries except for one who was Finnish.

But she couldn't bring herself to learn their names and faces, her every thought focused on him.

Toris, he was _alive_.

She had hardly dared to dream of such a thing.

And yet it was true.

He seemed a bit uncomfortable, and rubbed his leg nervously.

"Well," he said, "I don't suppose you'd believe that Ivan just let me go?"

She was glad he wasn't trying to lie to her, wasn't trying to shield her from the truth.

"Even if he let you go," she said, "How did you survive? You said they didn't let men on the lifeboats."

He looked ashamed, "I didn't escape on a lifeboat. I'm afraid I did a very dishonorable thing…Natalya.


	18. Chapter 18

I must say that I'm surprised by the good reaction to these chapters. I had been positive that these chapters would be extremely disliked, especially considering how they mess up the usual plot of the Titanic stories.

Now, I realize that some of you might be ready to scream out about "dishonorable" not being in Toris's personality. But I figure that since he's kind of on a ship headed for the bottom of the ocean, he might act a bit OOC.

Please enjoy...

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><p>…<strong>Chapter 18…<strong>

"You will get me a drink, da?"

Toris smiled his angelic, benevolent smile.

"Of course, Mr. Braginski."

The larger man just waved the formalities away, "We will die the same. Call me Ivan."

"Yes…Ivan."

He smiled at him, and Toris gave in to a couple of chuckles. Maybe it was a hint of hysteria, but it was just humorous how the man he had spent the last few weeks fearing was suddenly treating him like they were old friends. Life was funny in that way wasn't it? Not to mention the fact that for the first time in weeks, he didn't feel the need to immediately cover up the lash-marks that marked his back, and would stay that way for the rest of his life.

Admittedly, that wasn't very long now.

However, though he wasn't running for the bandages, he was still being careful to keep his back away from Ivan. He wanted to be selfish and just flaunt it in the older man's face. He wanted to show him what he had done to him.

Yet he just couldn't. He couldn't make this childish man understand, and he wouldn't rub his nose in what he'd done. There would be nothing to be gained by making both of them feel guilty drowning. It would be better to pretend that they were great friends. There was no comfort in dying alongside a stranger, or an enemy for that matter.

He poured out a generous glass full of vodka for Ivan, placing it down on the table next to the bed where Ivan was sitting.

"You will drink some too, da?"

"Uh, but Mr. Braginski…"

"_Ivan_," the Russian growled.

"Right, Ivan," Toris corrected himself; "it is your special stash, isn't it?"

Ivan merely shrugged, "After tonight, I will not be drinking it anymore, da? It is best to finish it rather than let it go to waste."

"Thank you, Ivan."

"Da. Consider it a thank you for what you have done for me."

"Well then, I suppose it would be wrong of me to refuse."

Toris felt his throat swell closed, and he knew that he would not be able to drink anything. Perhaps it would make his death somewhat easier, but he just couldn't give in like that. He wanted to live; he wanted to endeavor to make it out. He knew that it would be a foolish attempt, but he didn't want to go down without trying. And he definitely didn't want to die below decks, trapped like a crab in a crab pot.

He had to get away. He just _had_ to. But there was no way Ivan would ever let him leave.

Not until he was dead, that is.

"Ivan, remember those sailor friends of mine I was telling you about?" an idea was starting to form in his head.

The childish blond nodded hesitantly, "Da?"

"They told me about some new drinks that were all the rage in America. I think you might like them. Would you like to try one?"

"Are you going to leave me?"

"I just need to go to the bar, and then I will be right back."

"No!"

How like a child he was, overreacting to the smallest thing. Even at the slightest hint of him leaving, it seemed, was enough to set off the Russian.

Toris smiled benignly, doing his best to allay his fears, "You don't trust me, Ivan? I only want to make our last moments as happy as I possibly can."

He could see the older man struggle with himself, trying to determine whether or not he dared to let the younger leave; whether or not he could trust him to return.

Toris walked over to him and gently placed a hand on the Russian's shoulder, prompting him to look up into his earnest face, willing him to see the honesty we was trying to invoke.

"I _will_ return. I am not going to leave you like that, Ivan. I just want to give you a last present before…the end."

Ivan finally agreed, reluctantly as it was, and Toris rushed off, the sooner to be back before the Russian would feel that he had been gone too long and come after him with that gun.

He caught a quick gasp of breath from the deck before grabbing what he needed to recreate the drink he could barely remember. People were still trying to fight their way onto lifeboats, or they were giving up and trying to make their last moments merry. He tried to ignore the screams that echoed about the deck as he rushed back down to the quiet room where they had planned to await their doom.

"I apologize for my lack of showmanship," Toris spoke as he danced back into the room, "But I must admit that I have never really taken up mixing drinks as a job."

"It is alright."

"I probably should've," Toris admitted, "People are always going to be drinking. It could've been a lucrative business."

And with that, the Lithuanian got to it, and finally the product was ready for the large Russian to sample.

"Is it good?" Toris asked anxiously, waiting for his approval.

"Da. Very good. More?"

Toris grinned, "Of course, Ivan."

…

Ivan knew that this might happen eventually, but hadn't expected it to be so soon. After all, vodka was like mother's milk to the large Russian. He should not be feeling so sleepy so early on in his drinking. He looked through half-opened eyes at the dancing Lithuanian. Now _that_ was a man who seemed completely unable to hold his liquor. He had barely finished off a glass, and was already acting completely drunk. The boy was a light-weight.

But at least he was an amusing light-weight. Ivan didn't know what we he would do if the boy had been the type to sob and rail at the world when he was drunk out of his mind. At least this way he could watch the dancing ad laugh, and try to ignore the...truth.

"Thank you," Ivan murmured, closing his eyes. He'd just take a little rest. He didn't want to leave Toris alone, but from the way he was acting, the Lithuanian would probably be out like a light momentarily. He just couldn't keep his eyes open any longer.

"You're welcome." The other's voice might be a little hazy, but it was still easily recognizable.

Ivan suddenly felt the need to say something, to speak urgently, and it was enough to ward off the sleepiness for a moment.

"Toris. Toris! _TORIS!_"

"I'm here, Ivan, what is it?" It sounded like the boy was panicking.

"Toris…" he felt the younger put his head next to his own in order to hear his soft words, "…I'm sorry."

In that moment before he drifted off on a sea of sunflowers, he thought he heard a response.

"So am I, Ivan."

…

Toris felt like sighing in relief as he stood, "I truly am sorry, Ivan."

He picked up the gun and aimed it at the older man's head.

"I'm sorry," he continued speaking, "I am so sorry. But I have to try."

He pulled the trigger…nothing except a little click.

He stared at it in bewilderment before he started to laugh, the hysterical sound echoing about the cabin, no one else was there to hear it; Toris was completely alone, tears slowly appearing at the corners of his eyes.

Threatened by an empty gun. He felt like such a fool. He could've ignored the threat. He could've escaped. Was there ever any ammo? He'd have to check.

That time when he stared down the barrel of the gun, scared out of his mind that a wrong move would send a bullet into his head, right in front of his brothers, right in front of...Natalya...and there wasn't even one in there!

True, Ivan could probably kill him with his bare hands. But that was only if he had been able to get his hands on him. Toris was quick on his feet, he could've gotten off the ship with a lifeboat.

If only he had realized that the stinking gun wasn't even _LOADED_!

But there was no use crying over spilled milk. Yes, things could've been different if he had only known, or they might've had the chance to be different.

But who knew whether he might've done the same anyways.

It was time to stop angsting over what was done and gone, and continue trying to figure out how to escape. The first thing to do would be to find that ammunition.

In the meantime, he'd hope that he had put enough sleeping pills in Ivan's drink to stop his heart, or at the very least keep him asleep until he finally drifted off to death. He didn't want the large man to suffer if there was anything he could do to stop it.

"I am _so_ sorry." He couldn't feel like he could say it enough, no matter how many times he told himself that it was a peaceful death, that he was only hastening the inevitable. The fact of the matter was that he had killed him, and that it was done all because he couldn't just believe that it was truly the end for him.

But he would forever regret it, even in the afterlife, if he had gone this far to not even attempt to survive.

Now, where was the ammo?


	19. Chapter 19

Here's the next chapter. Here's to hoping it's still good.

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><p>…<strong>Chapter 19…<strong>

Toris had gone searching for the ammunition, trying to ignore the elephant, or rather, the _Russian_ in the room. It felt like someone was watching him, their eyes prickling onto the back of his neck.

But every time he whirled around, no one was there.

He was alone. He was completely alone, like he had never been before.

He was beginning to understand exactly how afraid the Russian had been, though he wondered if the guilt of what he had done had torn Ivan apart, or if he had been able to ignore it…

Ah, there they were. He figured out how to load the gun, and after a moment of hesitation, Toris walked back over to Ivan.

The sound seemed so loud in the enclosed space, but it was done.

Loading the gun again, pretending not to see the blood on the pillowcase, he walked to the large door, and attempted to shoot it off its hinges.

It was a well-made looking door, surely it would be able to float and support his weight. Two of him could fit on it as far as width went, and as thick as his hand from wrist to fingertips. This was a huge door, and he could only assume that it was made this way in order to keep sounds from entering the stateroom from the rest of the ship.

He had been eyeing it since he first knew about the ship going down, calculating constantly in his mind whether or not he would be able to save Ivan. He had even dropped some hints, suggesting that they use the doors as life-rafts.

But Ivan had refused the notion. The idea that he was going to die had firmly fixed itself into the Russian's mind, leaving no room for any debate, no matter how hard Toris had tried to make him see reason.

The first time Toris missed. The second time he figured the right spot to hit it to weaken the screws holding the door to the frame. Then, he went over and grabbed the heavy iron lamp, and used it to finish the job, bashing at the hinges until they finally came loose.

This would be his lifeboat, so long as he managed to get off the boat without it being taken from him.

When he went to get what he needed to mix the drinks, he had seen the chaos the boat had fallen into. There were those trying to drink away their last moments, and there were those like himself who were desperately trying to escape, even at this moment.

If he hauled the door through the ship, he'd be attacked, possibly killed, and it would be taken from him. Also, he wouldn't be able to move it far. It was too unwieldy and heavy for that.

So instead he smashed open the windows in Natalya's room, breaking off a piece of her bed to use as a paddle to get him away from the ship.

It would have to do, he decided, dragging the heavy plank of wood across the room to the windows.

…

That was the worst bellyflop he had ever had the misfortune of receiving. He felt frantically at his back, and was grateful to receive the best bit of news he had gotten all day.

His wounds hadn't opened up any more than they were, and hadn't stained through the fresh bandages yet.

He pulled his foot from the icy cold water, twitching at it to ensure that the impact hadn't damaged it.

And like that, he started paddling.

"Help me!" he suddenly heard, and saw a figure trying to cling to a bit of rubble. It looked as though the man had dived off the ship and tried to swim to the lifeboats, but hadn't quite expected the lifeboats to move as fast as they did.

It would be dangerous to try. The person could possibly capsize him. Toris had no illusions of his chances of survival if he got a good dousing of that icy water.

But perhaps they could both survive, and that was what made him paddle over to where that man was floundering about in the water.

"Easy there," he called out, "Calm down, or else the door might capsize."

"I'd like to see you be calm in this situation!" the man yelled, giving a little chuckle, grasping hold of a small piece of debris that had been thrown overboard, "You sure you want to help me? I'm not exactly small!"

"If we're careful, we should both be able to fit on here," Toris patted it firmly, but cautiously, "Door from first-class. It's well made."

"You're too kind! So, maybe you can put your weight on your end as I try to get on, and our respective weights will keep each other from capsizing?"

"Works for me."

And that is what they did.

It wasn't easy, and there were a few moments when Toris felt that he would be going over, but they managed it, somehow. The other man wasn't lying when he said that he wasn't small. In order to balance it, they had to put their backs to each other while stretching their legs out towards the outer edges. The other man got more room to spread out, but at least they could use each other to lean on.

"My name's Toris, by the way," the Lithuanian spoke gasping as they started to, gingerly, paddle away from the boat, hoping to avoid the suction that would come once it full went under. It had been no easy task to get the tall man onto the door, and he could feel the water from the man's cold dripping onto his back, the salt water stinging at the wounds. He flinched at the pain, but did his best to stay still. He'd feel a lot worse if he slipped over the edge.

"Mathias," he messed up his blond hair, making it stick up, "I'm from Denmark!"

"Ah, interesting," Toris wasn't quite sure how to respond.

"More than interesting my friend!" Mathias laughed, "Denmark's the greatest country on this planet! Where are you from?"

"Lithuania."

"Charmed! Anyway, whatever you do, don't fall asleep, Toris! If you do, I can't promise that I won't shove you off the door since chances are you will be dead!" he turned his head to give Toris a wide white grin.

"Then I reserve the right to do that to you as well if you fall asleep."

"I won't fall asleep!" the blond laughed, "My friends always said that I have too much energy to be normal! And before I jumped off the ship, I downed a whole lot of sugar! So be prepared for a lot of talk from me!"

"Well, talk away. It might help me stay awake."

"You'll regret saying that! They always do!"

"I just spent the last few weeks getting my back slashed open. Do your worst."

Mathias laughed, "You're funny, man! I hope you don't fall asleep! I wouldn't like to kill you!"

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't like to die, so we're even."

"You know what?"

"What?"

"You might not be Danish, but you still might be pretty cool!"

"I am honored," Toris spoke dryly, but it was lost on the Dane.

"Yeah, you should be!"

…

Even with the warning and the talking, even with the vodka he had managed to salvage from Ivan's stash that the two of them shared to drive off the cold, Toris eventually got to the point where every time he blinked it was a struggle for his eyes to open again. His throat was dry, but the man next to him showed no signs of stopping anytime soon.

So it was a boon when they were finally rescued.

A boat pulled up alongside of them, and a surprised voice called out.

"M'thi's, wh't 're yu d'ing out h're?"

"Drinking martinis on the beach in Florida," his companion spoke loudly, almost yelling, "Obviously my ship just sunk, Berwald!"

"Yu w'rn't s'ps'd to be c'ming b'ck so soon."

"I thought I'd surprise you guys a little!"

"C'ns'dr us s'rpr'sd."

"Yeah, I will! Hey, Toris, we're being rescued!"

"I don't think I could've missed it," he murmured sleepily, "Speak louder, I think there's some penguins in Antarctica that didn't quite hear you."

"Hey, come on! Wake up a little so we can get inside where it's warm."

Toris managed to liven up just enough to help the tall man, Berwald, he thought Mathias had called him, get him into the boat. Mathias clambered in on his own, only to get smacked upside the head by the man's companion.

"Imbecile."

"Aw, come on Norge! It's not like I caused the ship to sink!"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you did."

"Hey, don't talk that way to the King of Scandinavia!'

"Idiot."

By the time they got back to the main boat, though, Toris was out of it.


	20. Chapter 20

This chapter used to be much shorter than it is now. But with all the positive reviews I'm gett, and the fact that it's apparently better now than it was at the beginning, I'm extending the story just a tad.

Hope you still enjoy it!

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><p>…<strong>Chapter 20…<strong>

"I didn't escape completely unscathed," he admitted, rolling up his pants leg to reveal a metal limb, "Frostbite took my leg before I was rescued. I was taken to a hospital on the other side of the city and delirious for a long while. By the time I could think clearly again, you were gone," he looked sadly at her before he smiled, "I meant to come after you, but I wanted to be able to find you standing on my own feet. I know you prefer strong men," his gaze shifted to Alfred, who was laughing with Mathias.

She looked at him incredulously, "So you've let me think you were _dead_ just so that you could satisfy your own masculinity?"

He at least had the decency to look sheepish, "I guess you could put it like that."

"Idiot."

She whacked him on the head with a pillow before snuggling closer into him.

He gave her a little push.

"I can't stay, Natalya."

"Too bad, you're staying," she pushed back, leaning her head on his shoulder to keep him there.

"But I have to find my brothers…" he tried to get up again, but she just pushed him back down.

"No you don't."

"You don't understand…" he pleaded, put she shut him up with a look.

"No, you don't," she sighed and then spoke softly, "You don't have to find them because they're here."

And as though her words had called them, the boys entered the room, laughing about the day with snow melting in their hair.

They stopped short as they saw the man on the couch, and he froze in response, his green eyes staring at them as though they were a lifeboat and he was a drowning man.

Eduard went stone-faced.

Raivis cried.

Natalya felt like she would break down herself.

Again.

"Look who finally showed up. I thought that they were supposed to loose luggage, not a person," she said wryly, reluctantly moving out of the way as the boys flung themselves at their brother, just to ensure that he was real.

At last, they were all together again.

…

"I feel that I owe it to you to tell you the truth," the Finnish man spoke to her as Toris went to the other room to catch up with his brothers.

She glanced at the Nordic men, who seemed strangely subdued before nodding, gesturing for him to continue.

She had felt like some pieces had been missing. Toris was a good liar, but she was even better. She appreciated him not sparing her when it came to…Ivan…but why would he hide what had happened to him afterwards?

The Finn took a deep breath before starting to speak, "Berwald and Lukas found him, like he said, but he was out cold before they got to the boat. They couldn't wake him up. We started to worry that he wouldn't wake up, but then he started to regain consciousness, but was completely delirious."

He paused there, and seemed to be unable to speak. So then the man with the hair that was almost white continued the story, "Then there was the amnesia. He stayed like that for a few months. They had amputated his foot early on, when there was still hope that he'd manage to recover. But one day, the very moment he woke up, he started frantically trying to tell us something, but we couldn't understand him. Eventually, we found out that he was saying names, over and over again. Yours was one of them, Miss Arlovskaya. It took us forever to get him to say something else once he remembered your names. It was only recently that he was strong enough to be moved."

The Finnish man broke into the conversation once again, a soft smile on his face, "But once he remembered your name, he recovered quickly. You've got a keeper on your hands, Miss."

She turned her head to look at the laughing man, barely visible through the doorframe of the next room as he tousled the hair of his siblings.

"Yes, I do."

…

The Nordic family eventually left, leaving behind Toris with the promise to be in touch.

Arthur and Alfred also went back to their respective homes.

Eduard and Raivis had been pried away from their brother and were busy doing their homework, with the promise that if they got it done, then Natalya would see about getting them out of school the next day so that they could spend it with their brother.

So it was just the Belarusian and the Lithuanian, sitting on the couch in silence.

"You're never to do that to me again," Natalya finally broke the silence, leaning her head on his shoulder, relishing how neatly it fit, how her body seemed complete next to his.

Her voice was cold, but Toris knew what she was trying to convey.

"I understand," he responded, smiling down at her, reaching an arm around to ruffle her impeccable hair.

"Good."

They sat in silence a bit longer, before Toris sighed and made to get to his feet.

"No," she grumbled, clinging to him tighter.

He just chuckled, "I've got to find a place to live, Natalya."

"I've got a house."

"Good for you, but it's your house."

"It's too big for just us. We have room for you."

"That's very kind of you, but it wouldn't feel right…"

"Right-shmite. You're staying."

"No, I can't , I won't let myself be more of a burden on you than I have been."

Her lower lip jutted out in a pout, and when he moved to stand again, she swung her legs into his lap, pulling herself closer so that she could make him look at her right in the eye.

"Toris, I won't let you leave me again," ice blue peered intently into forest green, "You are not to leave me ever again."

"I'm not going to leave…"

"You're right about that. You won't leave because I won't let you."

"I'll come back," this situation seemed so familiar.

"No."

"I _will_."

"No, you won't, because you're not leaving."

"But I need to get a job…"

"I have money."

"And like I said," he rolled his eyes at her, but smiled, "Good for you, but it's _yours_."

Hesitantly, as though she had forgotten how, Natalya returned the smile before ducking her head to bury it in his shoulder. It took a few moments, but then she felt his arms come around her back to hold her close to him.

She struggled to control her voice as she hid her face, "What if you don't come back? I don't think I could stand it."

She could feel warm hands brushing through her hair, a murmured apology as he accidentally dislodged her ribbon, but she didn't care as she waited eagerly for the answer.

"I'll return."

A little choke came up in her voice as she spoke, "Please, Toris. I don't think…no, I _know_ that I can't go through that again."

She could feel his chest move as he sighed.

"Would you feel better if I stayed with you for a while?"

She pushed herself away, just enough to look directly at him.

"Really?" she asked hopefully.

He looked a little uncomfortable, and looked away from her, even as he shifted slightly to let her get more comfortable.

"Well, it's not like I've been able to get a house yet…or a job. I mean, this morning I wasn't even really that sure that I was going to find you. So, if it'll make you feel better, then maybe I can stay for a bit until you get tired of me and kick me out."

She smiled at him, "I won't get tired of you, Toris."

He grinned mischievously, "You haven't had to live with me yet. But don't worry, I'll get a job soon and then be out of the house so I won't bother you."

"A job?" she raised an eyebrow.

He laughed at that, "Yes, a job, Natalya. That is something that those of us who did _not_ inherit their family's fortune have to get in order to have money and survive."

"I've got money," she muttered.

"Good for you."

She sighed, Toris could be so thick-headed at times.

"You don't need a job."

"Yes I do."

Scratch that. He wasn't thick-headed, he was just plain old _stubborn_.

She opened her mouth to argue, but he placed a finger to her lips.

"Listen to me, Nat…" he blushed as he realized the nickname had slipped, "…I'm sorry…"

"It's fine, I actually like it."

"Yes, well, um," he was visibly flustered now, "Nat, I've been working for most of my life. I don't think I could stand it if I didn't do anything all day. Besides, if I worked, I'd be able to tell you stories about my day, afford to take you out and get you presents…"

"I don't care about that. I just want you by my side, Toris."

"Don't worry, Nat, I won't leave unless you ask me to."

"That won't ever happen."

"Then I guess I'm here forever," he grinned, hugging her closer.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

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><p>First time I've really written fluff. I hope it's okay.<p>

Review Please!


	21. Chapter 21

**My test of a good novel is dreading to begin the last chapter. ~Thomas Helm**

What do you think? Is it true? Or more importantly (in my view, anyways), do you feel that way about this story?

I'd like to have your honest opinion about this story.

Thank you for reading it.

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><p><strong>…Chapter 21…<strong>

Natalya stretched her arms above her head as she walked tiredly down to the kitchen. Another day, another start. It was time to prepare the lunches for her charges before they went to school.

A few times before, Eduard had suggested that she let them prepare thier own lunches, but she refused.

In the beginning, the simple fact that someone _needed_ her helped her get going in the very beginning. Now it was mostly habit. It was a part of her routine now, simply the way she started off her day, even if she wasn't the best cook.

She could at least prepare sandwiches and pour herself a bowl of cereal for breakfast.

And Eduard and Raivis received the sleep that she knew they needed.

In fact, they should be getting up soon. After she got the sandwiches made, if they weren't seen, she'd go in and check on them.

She paused as she noticed a light on the kitchen.

Suddenly, ice-cold awareness spread through her previously sluggish brain.

**_Someone was in the kitchen._**

She was the only one supposed to be up at this time.

Cautiously, she felt for her knife, the one she always kept on herself. After the…sinking, she hadn't felt safe unless she always had a knife. It wouldn't have done her much good then, admittedly, but it was something.

This was much more wicked looking than the blade she had used to cut through…Toris's bandages.

This could kill a man.

Carefully, she snuck into the kitchen. This must be the worst robber in the history of thievery. The lights were all on, and he was making plenty of noise.

He even seemed to be…cooking?

She paused for a moment to look at the neat picture, even as she tightened her grip on the knife. Longish brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail that didn't seem to do much good as strands of hair fell forward around his face. An apron was wrapped around his waist (her pale blue one, she was amused to note), and he seemed to be quite intent on his work.

The man then turned and smiled at her, "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty."

Her jaw dropped.

"Toris?"

His expression turned worried, "Was I not supposed to be here? I'm sorry, I'll leave right this minute…"

She dropped the blade, heedless of the damage that might've been done to the edge, and flung herself at him, holding him tight, feeling his body stiffen in surprise as he caught her and kept his feet, keeping them from flying back into the stove top.

"You'll do no such thing."

Yesterday was coming flying back to her.

Toris was alive. He was ALIVE!

How could she have forgotten this magical fact, even for a minute? After all that time of flinching away from his name because of the pain that it brought, he was finally back.

"I missed you," she murmured into his shoulder as his arms came back around her.

"I haven't even left yet," he spoke jokingly, "I'm not going anywhere, Nat…though I do believe that your breakfast is burning."

Her eyes grew wide.

"You're making me breakfast?"

"Yes."

She hugged him even tighter with a girlish giggle.

"You are the greatest."

"Thank you, but like I said, before, your breakfast is burning. Even "the greatest" won't be able to save it if that happens."

…

For once, she allowed Eduard and Raivis to skip school to go on a picnic with their brother and her. Well, it wasn't quite skipping. She had contacted the school to tell them what had happened and that she would be taking the boys out whether they liked it or not.

Then Alfred showed up, and invited himself, Arthur, and the Nordic bunch.

Natalya had wanted to yell at Alfred for being so impolite, but Toris had only laughed at that, and made more food, suggesting that the other groups do the same. Oh well, Arthur would probably end up yelling at the fool for her anyways.

So it was a large group going out to picnic that day, setting up a myriad of blankets as they put down their hampers.

Natalya curled up leaning on both Toris and the tree that gave them shade. Eduard and Raivis also sat close to their older brother…any closer and they might've been actually on his lap.

Of course, the same could possibly be said about her…but she didn't care. She just wanted to be close to him.

The cooking was spread about, though Natalya figured out fairly quickly to avoid the others' food. It's not like they were bad…just not quite her cup of tea.

To put it nicely, Arthur's food was burnt to a crisp, Alfred's was all marinated in a layer of grease, and as for the Nordic cuisine…it was kind of weird. But from how they had centered their food on their blankets, it looked like they had expected no one else to enjoy their dishes, so she didn't really feel guilty about not trying any.

She stuck with the Lithuanian food, still relatively similar to the meals she had back in Belarus.

But she would have to hurry if she wanted any more. Even though Alfred had brought about a million of his burgers, he was practically inhaling Toris's food.

"You are an awesome cook man!" at least, that's what it sounded like around the found he was chewing as he spoke, "You wanna come work for me? You could be my housekeeper."

Natalya glared at him and pulled the Lithuanian closer to her. Toris laughed at that.

"It looks like I'm going to have to decline your offer, Mr. Jones."

"Alfred! Call me Alfred!"

It was nice to see that her new friends accepted Toris so well.

"Toris," the impassive Nordic called, holding up a fiddle, "You up for it?"

She didn't think that his grin could possibly get any wider.

"Always, Lukas!" he moved to get up, but Natalya grabbed his hand.

"What about your leg?"

"I might not dance as well as I did, but I can still move to the beat! Just watch!"

Reluctantly, she let him go, watching as he walked to the center of the clearing as some of the other Nordics pulled out instruments. He got into position, nodded to the musicians, and waited for the music to start.

He moved.

It wasn't quite the breathless airiness that it had been before, but no one but those who had seen that would realize it. He moved freely, as though the metal leg wasn't holding him back.

"I see what you mean now," Alfred whispered to her, "When you said that he could dance on air."

"Yes," she responded, refusing to take her eyes off him, "He is amazing, isn't he?"

She could watch him dance like this forever. This memory would always remain one of her favorites.

The day after Toris returned to her and danced for them on a warm field.

The sunflowers were even blooming.

…

Toris finally went to visit his grave a few years after that.

It was kind of weird, staring at something that proclaimed your death when you were standing right in front of it.

_Toris __Lorinaitis_

_A bright light extinguished too soon_

_A man who could dance on the very air_

_March 9,1893 - April 15, 1912_

It was touching that she thought so well of him, even right there at the end. Especially considering that she had spent most of their acquaintance hating his guts and planning his murder for "enchanting" her brother. She had told him that she had figured he was a witch for how much his employer had liked him.

"Dance on the very air", huh? Though his dancing wasn't that good, he was flattered that she thought so. It looked like she had told her friends as well as his friends after she met him. Whenever he danced nowadays, he got comments like that.

But he wasn't that great. Though it was nice that someone thought so.

He patted his headstone before turning away from his plot. Maybe he should talk to Nat about removing it. There was something a little morbid about his grave being ready for him the moment he stopped breathing.

He turned to the one by his side.

_Ivan Branginski_

_Beloved Brother_

_You will be missed_

_May 7, 1889 - April 15, 1912_

He smiled gently at it, before kneeling down to place sunflowers on the grave.

Toris sat in silence for a few moments before he started speaking, the words flowing out of his mouth like a river, desperately needing to be said.

"I just wanted to tell you that I forgive you for what you did to me. If you hadn't, I wouldn't have met your sister, and I wouldn't have been so happy right now. You were a good man, Ivan, flawed, but I like to think that you just didn't know how to deal with your phobia of being alone. I wish I could've helped you better," he gave a little laugh here; "I probably should've talked to you about it, instead of just letting you do what you would. And I'm sorry for that trick I played on you at the end. I didn't want to die, and there was no way you'd let me leave, even if I could've found a way for you to escape as well… I'm still dancing, though it's more difficult with a false leg. But I've gone to college and gotten a degree in psychology. Hopefully I can help people like you before they hurt people like me... I hate to say it, but I've been relying on your sister a lot to help me through school, and I hope I'll finally be able to make it up to her. I've tried before, but she's pushed away any offer I've made. I just hope she'll make an exception for this one… Wish me luck; I hope to soon think of you as my brother-in-law, Ivan... I hope that you're surrounded with your sunflowers, safe and warm, wherever you are. I hope that you're having a pleasant dream. After all, what is death except for a very long sleep filled with happy dreams?"

He patted the stone fondly before standing up and leaving.

He had a proposal to prepare for.

…

An outsider would be intrigued by the scene before them, even if they were a ways away or didn't know the players.

They would watch the brown-haired man walk up to the icy beauty, whose cold façade would break upon seeing him, rewarding him with a large grin.

He would walk forward, but would stop short of her waiting arms.

Her face would grow puzzled, and her arms would fall, as she would grow worried. Was something wrong? Had she done something wrong? What was going on?

But then it would turn to pure astonishment as the man would move to kneel in front of her.

Even if they couldn't hear what the man said, there would be no mistaking what was going on.

A stunned silence would pass before they would finally hear something as the woman would yell…

"Do you have to ask?"

She would fling herself at the man, who would then start laughing, holding her close as he got to his feet and swinging her around in a circle until she was laughing in her dizziness.

They would be the very picture of the happy couple, and the outsider would move away at this point to let them have their privacy.

It was a different time then, a period where ladies were treated like royalty by the gentlemen who loved them, a time before planes could watch scenes like this on a screen in their own home.

It was a time when death seemed so far away.

It was a beautiful, sunny day in New York as the couple walked towards their home. Drops of sun reflected off the grass, creating puddles of light that flooded the ground and warmed anyone lucky enough to be caught by it. Everywhere, people were strolling around, content in the beautiful weather and wrapped up in the person they were with. The man gave a sigh as he regretted leaving the outdoors when he finally reached the home, but happy to have the woman he loved by his side. He took one last look at the beautiful blue sky before he entered the door, following the fair-haired beauty inside.

He was poor Lithuanian commoner - normally one would expect him to be staying in a small house - but Toris Lorinaitis had found that his pride was nothing in the face of the wealthy Belarusian that loved him and insisted on him having the best, no matter how much he argued that he didn't deserve it, or didn't need it. And at this point, since she had accepted his proposal, it didn't really matter anymore.

At the risk of sounding cliché, one could say that this was Happily Ever After.

And so it was.

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><p>Thank you for reading.<p>

I would like to finish this with the immortal quote by Robert Porterfield:

"If you like it, talk about it. If you don't, keep your mouth shut!"

Thank you!


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